Born without purpose, our friend wanders through the desert

Aimless, brainless, infection ruining his sentient thoughts

Over the years he’s created his own purpose

A purpose void of reason or understanding

To slay the hunchbacked sand demons

Blight of nature, he’s their only reckoner

The last bastion of desert justice

Their viscous red offering have corroded his appendages

He is apathetic to the deconstruction of his physical being

The Red Baptism

Born anew

The Camel Crusher